


Pygmalion

by zelda_zee



Category: Lost
Genre: M/M, One-Sided Attraction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-04
Updated: 2014-08-04
Packaged: 2018-02-11 18:52:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2079279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zelda_zee/pseuds/zelda_zee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ben likes to watch his little soldier.</p><p>Originally posted 3/28/2008.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pygmalion

Sayid has a small apartment in an outer borough of New York City, in a nondescript building, modern and anonymous. No one knows of it, other than Ben.

Sayid is hardly ever there, only when he has a break between assignments or when he needs to go to ground. The apartment is simple, with only the basics – furniture, television, stereo, a few books. The walls are bare. There are no photographs. Sayid has groceries delivered, tends to stay inside. He knows none of his neighbors.

When he is on assignment Ben will rent an apartment for him if he’s going to be anywhere long enough to need to appear to be a resident. Those apartments are luxurious, full of every amenity, come with a housekeeper and a cook. Sayid is anonymous there as well. There may be people who think they know him, but they do not.

No one knows him now. Only Ben.

Ben isn’t interested in Sayid when he is on assignment. He’s seen him in action, knows he’s a consummate professional and a consummate actor as well. When he gives Sayid his instructions, he doesn’t doubt that they’ll be followed to the letter. He’s a good little soldier, Sayid is. Precise, disciplined, able to take initiative. Follows orders infallibly, which is perhaps what Ben values in others above all else.

No, what he’s interested in is Sayid in his unguarded moments, when he believes himself to be truly alone. What he does then, what he thinks about, how he acts – those are the things that fascinate Ben.

Sayid’s apartment is fully rigged – video and audio in every room. Sayid doesn’t know this, of course. There’s no point or purpose to it. Well, maybe Ben could say that he had it installed because he wanted to be sure that he could trust his little soldier, that if Widmore tried to turn him, that Ben would be on to him before things could go south.

But that would be a lie.

The truth is simple: Ben likes watching. It reminds him of when he was a kid, how he’d watch an ant under a magnifying glass – watch it and watch it, until, with just a slight turn of his wrist to bring the glass to a different angle, he could focus the light, and _poof_! A tiny flame.

Ben finds Sayid entertaining, even when he is doing nothing more than lying on his couch or staring out the window. Sayid is lovely – always was, even back on the island when he was nothing but a pain in Ben’s ass, beating and torturing and killing his men, and just making a general nuisance of himself. But now, with his hair straight and smooth and his hands clean, nails manicured, with his clothes – the clothes that Ben chooses for him – such _beautiful_ clothes – now, Ben cannot bear not to watch him.

Gone is the wildness, and the willfulness and the defiance. Sayid makes Ben think of a jungle cat – a panther, perhaps. Deadly and dangerous and just as likely to rip your throat out as to look at you. Now that panther is caged and obedient and, best of all, _tamed_.

Not just tamed, Ben corrects himself. _Owned_. Sayid is his – his soldier, his pet, his whore. Sayid kills who Ben tells him to, does what he tells him to, fucks who he tells him. Sayid is _his_ , and Ben doesn’t even think Sayid realizes just how true this is.

Ben lays in bed and watches the video feed from Sayid’s apartment on his TV. Sometimes he snacks on microwave popcorn while he watches. Sometimes he’ll have a beer. Late at night he sometimes sits up cross-legged in his pajamas with a large bowl of ice cream and watches Sayid sleep or watch TV.

He jerks off a lot as he watches. Sayid doesn’t have to be doing anything in particular for him to get the urge. There’s just something about watching, the power of it – of knowing that this man has no secrets from him, that he cannot hide even the smallest part of himself. Ben watches him eat and sleep, watches him take a shower, watches him take a shit, watches him masturbate. It’s all equally wonderful, every bit of it.

Ben knows so much about Sayid now. Sayid likes nature documentaries, or ones about space. He avoids the news and shows like _Frontline_ , even when they’re about Iraq. He watches _Masterpiece Theatre_ and tears up at romantic melodrama. Ben smiles at that. Sayid is very sweet, very sensitive. It’s a wonder, considering, but there it is. There’s no denying that in his way, the man is tender-hearted.

Ben has learned a lot about what Sayid likes. He likes wearing flannel pajama bottoms around the apartment and almost always changes into them as soon as he gets home. He likes jazz and classical and some kind of Middle Eastern-sounding music that Ben can only assume is Iraqi, but he also likes discordant, industrial rock that makes Ben hit the mute button. No matter what kind of music he’s listening to, Sayid does not sing along, nor does he dance, though Ben wishes he that he would.

Sayid eats a lot of healthy food – grains and salads and fruit. Yogurt and cheese. Ben has never seen him eat meat, though he’s pretty sure he does when he’s on the job. He drinks tea and mineral water. There’s a bottle of brandy in the cupboard. Ben saw it once when Sayid had the door open, searching for something as he prepared dinner. He’s never seen Sayid have a drink, though again, he's sure Sayid will drink alcohol when he's working, if it's warranted.

Sayid puts a lot of honey in his tea. Apparently that’s as much of a concession as he’s willing to make to having a sweet tooth. Ben thinks Sayid shouldn’t be so hard on himself. After all, there’s no harm in taking a little enjoyment in life. For instance, a bowl of ice cream once in a while wouldn’t kill him.

Ben knows what Sayid likes in bed – maybe not everything, but enough. When Sayid masturbates he touches himself like a lover, one hand on his cock, the other roaming everywhere, pinching his nipples, playing with his balls, slipping back between his legs to press on his opening. Sometimes he even sucks on his fingers first and sticks them inside. When he does that, it makes Ben feel so excited that he has to touch himself too.

Sayid is quiet, but not silent. The microphones are very good, so Ben can hear even the little noises Sayid makes. He’s learned to listen for the catch in Sayid’s breath right before he comes. He inhales sharply and then his breath stops for a long second as the hand on his cock speeds up. He makes a noise when he comes – again, not loud – and Ben has yet to be able to put a name to it. It’s too breathy to be a groan, but too deep to be a moan. It’s too intense for a sigh. It’s shuddery and it sounds like it comes from deep inside him, like the wave of feeling forces out this tiny bit of sound.

He arches too, every time, his neck bent back and his body presented to the camera in a long, sinuous curve. Ben likes that very much.

When Sayid comes, it’s hard for Ben to be quiet. He always finds some sound has slipped out – a sigh or a little moan or a satisfied chuckle. It’s so enjoyable to see Sayid come, to know that he’s made himself feel good for those brief seconds.

Sometimes Ben thinks that maybe he loves Sayid just a little.

Afterwards, Sayid likes to lay still, his hand still lazily moving over his cock, spreading his come all over it. Even after he’s soft, he still caresses himself and a couple of times, to Ben’s delight, he got hard and did it all over again. But usually he just lays there, his limbs sprawled across the bed, dark hair fanned out across the pillow or hiding his face.

Ben thinks that he’d like to be the one to make Sayid come.

At first, Sayid wouldn’t want it, but eventually, Ben’s sure he’d come around. Ben can be very persuasive and Sayid has come around to his way of thinking about everything else, there’s no reason why this should be different. And even if he doesn’t, it doesn’t matter. Sayid is his. His little toy, his little soldier. He’s made him his whore already for others. It’s only fair that Ben get some for himself.

Ben knows what to do. He’s watched for long enough to learn, and that, he’s sure, would count for something. He would not be selfish, not at all. He would want to give pleasure and he would expect Sayid to take it. Ben is thorough and exacting and he requires others to be as well. He would require Sayid to be. He is sure Sayid can live up to his standards.

Ben has made him what he is, formed him into a thing that he has never been before, and Sayid has not protested once. It is obvious to Ben that he wants someone to tell him what to do, for someone else to be responsible for him. And Ben is more than willing for as long as Sayid is his.


End file.
